


The Preserver

by Acro111



Series: Sara Webb and the Islands of Death [2]
Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Jurassic Park Original Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Dinosaurs, Familial Bonds, Maybe Romance, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Series, follows the movies, how do tags work here, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25722349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Acro111/pseuds/Acro111
Summary: After the incident in the park Sara found work as Dr. Harding’s assistant, unfortunately for her, that means she is still entangled in John Hammond’s plot to send people to the Island...only this time there are no fences.
Series: Sara Webb and the Islands of Death [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1817983
Kudos: 3





	1. The Preserver: Prologue

_  
>>TO: Shard 042 @ princeton.edu  
>>FROM: Sara Webb 75 @ yahoo . com  
Subject: Important Matter??  
Date: 10:23:1997_

_Hey, Sarah,  
You said you had something important to ask me? What’s going on? Does this have to do with that call you got the other day?  
Please respond,  
S. Webb_

_> >TO: Shard 042 @ princeton.edu  
>>FROM: Sara Webb 75 @ yahoo . com  
Subject: Dr. Harding??  
Date: 10:25:1997_

_Dr. Harding?? I still haven’t received a response from you, and the team at the lab is starting to ask questions. What do I tell them? Where are you??  
Please respond,  
S. Webb_

_> >TO: Shard 042 @ princeton.edu  
>>FROM: Sara Webb 75 @ yahoo . com  
Subject: Sarah!!  
Date: 11:01:1997_

_Sarah, please respond to my emails! The Zoo has been threatening to kick us and lock us out of the lab (ya know, where ALL our research is??) if you don’t (at LEAST) answer a single email! Please, Sarah, if not for me or the team, do it for the research!  
Sara Webb_

Sara was stressed. Okay, understatement of the century, but she was under a lot of pressure. As Dr. Sarah Harding’s top assistant, the zoo had turned to her to find out what happened to their animal behaviorist and paleontologist. At first, Sara had assumed Sarah had gone to see Ian or Richard Levine, or any number of other professionals in her field—hell—she thought for a brief moment that maybe Sarah had made good on her promise to wallop her parents. But as the week continued, and no one at the zoo had heard from or seen Dr. Harding, Sara was beginning to worry. She sat in the cramped lab on the pull out couch that was her second home, and ran her hands through her hair for the thousandth time that day. 

Sara was startled out of her inner turmoils, however, when the phone rang. She flung the blanket off her lap and leapt off the couch. After banging her knee into the wall, Sara rounded out of the back office and into the reception room. She landed in the office chair, however, with her momentum she went flying backwards away from the desk. Sara scrambled to pull herself forward and caught the phone on the last ring. 

“Hello, this is Dr. Harding’s office, this is Sara Webb speaking, how can I help you?” She answered as politely as she could in one breath. 

_“Sara Webb?”_ A familiar old scottish voice repeated curiously. Sara’s eyes grew wide and a chill washed over her body. Her eyes burned after she realized she hadn’t blinked for several seconds and John Hammond was calling out over the phone. _“Hello? Hello-Hello? Miss Webb?”_

Sara slowly leaned her elbows on the desk and fiddled with the phone cord. She chewed on her lip before quietly answering, “Yeah...Yeah this is she.” 

_“Sara, I am so glad to have gotten in touch with you.”_ She could almost see the toothy smile on his face and the child-like twinkle in his eyes. _“I was wondering if, perchance, you would come for a visit?”_

Sara crossed her legs at the ankle, flashes of the Tyrannosaurus Rex’s bottomless maw chomping down towards her burned the insides of her eyelids and she struggled to catch her breath. “I, uhm.” Sara glanced around the office, looking for anything that might provide some form of excuse for her not to visit him. 

_“I’ll tell you, it would mean a lot to me.”_ John said softly. 

Sara sighed, guilt ebbing away at her resolve. She ran her free hand through her hair once more, “John,” she hated how it sounded like she was pleading with him. 

_“And it would mean a great deal to Dr. Harding.”_ John added. 

Sara stiffened. “You...ha—…” Sara’s vision grew hazy, “Have you seen her?” She asked. John was silent for a moment, “John?” Sara’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat. 

_“It would be better to tell you in person.”_ He answered so quietly Sara wasn’t sure he’d said anything at first. Then, with no warning he started telling her his address and Sara scrambled to find some pen and paper. _“And Miss Webb?”_

“Yes?” Sara sat up straighter as she finished writing his address down. She’d have to fly across country, but that was what her emergency funds were for, and if it meant finding out what happened to Dr. Harding and save all their research she would do it. She would do it in a heart beat. 

_“It’s so good to hear from you.”_

Sara paused in her scrambles to make a packing list and she couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her lips, “You too, John.” She managed to choke out before they said their goodbyes and hung up.


	2. The Hammond Estate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara arrives at the Hammond Estate and finds out what happened to Dr. Harding

As soon as Sara’s plane landed in New York she got a cab and headed for the nearest hotel. It was only 6 in the evening, but she figured at this point in the day John would not be receiving any visitors. She yawned behind her hand as the cute receptionist handed her the key.

“Enjoy your night.” She said sweetly, and Sara nodded.

“Thanks, you too.” Her eyes got wide as she turned and stalked across the foyer to the elevators. The wait for the elevator ding was agonizing and Sara sighed in relief as the doors finally opened. She stepped in, quickly turned and jabbed at the third floor button, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see the receptionist giggling at her. It was only once the elevator doors had started moving again that she risked letting out the breath she had been holding.

 _”Way to go, Sara. That’s exactly how normal people talk.”_ she mentally scolded herself. She forgot all about her wording blunder when she unlocked her hotel room door. As soon as she was inside she went to the bathroom and threw the curtain open. An empty tub. She turned and went through all of the cabinets, and when those turned up empty she went out into the room to check every possible hiding spot. After she made sure the room was clear of any lingering strangers, Sara flopped on the king sized bed. Not bothering to do any more than take off her winter coverings, bra, and boots before curling up in a ball and falling asleep. 

At some point in the night, Sara had slipped under the covers because when she woke up she was shivering under a pile of stale smelling blankets.

“Christ almighty,” Sara’s teeth chattered as she shakily rolled out of bed and over to the window where the AC unit was. Despite being November in chilly New York, the AC was on full blast, meaning her room was like an icicle. Sara jumped and let out a short scream when a flash of lightning blinded her between the cracks of the curtains. Still shivering, Sara turned the AC off, blindly pressing buttons until the air that came out was gentle and warm. She sighed with content and warmed her frigid hands over the vents. Another streak of lightning illuminated the sheer white curtains on the other side of the thick sun blocking curtains. Sara paused. The world felt silent, yet she was deafened by the painful ringing in her ears. She felt compelled to grab at the thick, greasy, coarse fabric, and her hands continued to shake until she had the fistfuls of curtains in her hands. She took one breath, then a second, and she flung the curtains wide open. Aside from the little green lights on the AC unit, Sara only saw darkness. She was alone in a dark room looking out over an empty dark nothingness. 

The lightning flashed again, showing a large, toothy, wide-opened jaw racing towards the glass. Sara screamed again and backpedaled until the back of one of her knees hit the edge of the bed frame and she fell backwards. Her bad arm got nicked by the wooden bed frame, but she still slipped down, landing on her right wrist and hitting her head. Sara kept her eyes shut, fully expecting a T-Rex head to come crashing through the window and gobble her up. 

After a moment of silence, Sara cracked open one eye. She peeked around the room and found it to be exactly as one would expect it. 

Sara tiredly cursed to herself, but with a trembling stomach she managed to quickly get up and close the curtains again before the next flash of lightning came. She alternated between rubbing the back of her head and her now very sore wrist. Afraid her head might grow a bump or her wrist would be sprained Sara turned on the bedside lamp with a wince. If the alarm clock was right it was three in the morning. Sara grumbled even more. In California she would just now be finishing up at the lab and debating on going to the apartment or just crashing on the couch. The couch usually won. 

Sara started searching around the room and she eventually found the ice bucket. She put in one of the little plastic bags and grabbed her room key before shuffling out into the hallway wearing her clothes from the day before. 

Hotels, especially at night, felt like a whole ‘nother world. Logically, Sara knew the other rooms had sleeping tenants in them. However, being sleep deprived, suffering from a mild panic attack, in a near silent and unknown building made the hair on the back of Sara’s neck stand up, and she broke into goosebumps. She finally found the ice machine humming merrily in a small alcove with two vending machines and a coke machine, and the feeling she was being watched had not gone away. Sara ignored it and silently prayed that this particular ice machine would silently dispense her ice just so on the off chance someone was watching her they wouldn’t be able to find her.

 _“If someone was watching you, they’ve already found you.”_ The horrible voice of anxiety told her as she jammed her ice box into the machine. It clunked and clattered loudly as it churned chunks of ice into her little plastic box. Sara filled it and then dashed back to her room before anyone could see her. After checking every possible nook and cranny in her room where someone could hide, again, Sara was content to breath. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and achingly remembered a time when anxiety hadn’t ruled her life. 

Shrugging it off as a part of life, Sara separated the ice into two parts. She turned to her weekend backpack and dug around inside, eventually finding her old arm brace and a long strip of gauze with velcro on either end. She placed the ice into baggies and then secured each to their respective spots: one to the back of her head with the gauze and one to her wrist with the arm brace (though she had to turn the brace upside down from its usual position to put it on the opposite arm). She sat down on the bed, basking in the yellow-orange light. She fought off the tiredness that threatened to overcome her. Every time she closed her eyes. She saw that mouth. Those eyes. The teeth.

Sara forced herself to breathe. 

This was bad. She was getting worse. The first few days after the incident were horrible, Sara could hardly sleep, but once she was out of the hospital things got better. Before, she only thought about the park in her dreams, or if she was alone for too long. Then it progressed to remembering what had happened when it was dark and raining. And just a few months ago she started seeing the Raptors out of the corner of her eyes, or if she was in the kitchen for too long she felt on edge. The worst happened at night. She was seeing the T-Rex everytime she looked into the darkness for too long. Now, she could barely close her eyes without seeing those teeth.

She watched as minutes flickered by on the alarm clock, taking the ice off after fifteen minutes. She would have taken them off at ten minutes, but she was still scared that whatever was in the darkness on the other side of the window could still see her, and was just waiting for her to move to strike. 

Sara stretched and laid back down under the blankets. Forcing herself to turn the lamp off and close her eyes.

 _“There are no dinosaurs on the mainland. The dinosaurs were bred lysine deficient. The dinosaurs are dead. There are no dinosaurs on the mainland—”_ Sara repeated to herself until the warmth of the room overtook her and she fell asleep once more.

When Sara woke five hours later, her stomach gurgled in protest at missing the free breakfast. With a huff and a heave, she pushed herself upright and stretched. Daylight broke through the gap in the curtains, letting Sara know the storm had passed. She got out of bed, went to the bathroom, and stripped down for a shower. The hot water came out in a blast and was sharp against her skin. She scrubbed herself with the tiny bar of soap as quickly as she could to get the grime of air travel and sweat off her body. Once she was out, she dried herself as quickly as she could with the scratchy towel provided and got dressed.

She double checked to make sure she had everything, rang up a cab, and left the room as neatly as she had found it. The ride to the lobby was too quick and Sara realized as the door opened that the receptionist from last night might still be at the desk. Fortunately for her, or unfortunately, it was a just as cute young man who smiled as she walked up to the desk.

“I don’t think I’ll need another night.” She explained, “so I just gotta return my key.” She slid the plastic card on the desk towards him.

“Not a problem ma’am.” He smiled, taking the key back, he processed her return and smiled once more, “alrighty, you are all taken care of, is there anything else I can help with? Cab?”

“No thanks.” Sara shook her head politely, “I called one from the room.”

“Alrighty, well you have a nice day and we hope to see you again, soon.” He said.

“Thank you.” Sara bit her tongue to keep from saying _“you too”_ again. Thankfully, her cab showed up not too long after and she was off.

The cab driver was quiet as he drove her to John Hammond’s estate, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that he kept eyeing her and then the growing houses and mansions they were passing by. Sara nervously fiddled with the hem of her coat. She couldn’t pay the man fast enough when they made it to Hammond’s estate. He thanked her and peeled away, obviously feeling the same level of discomfort at being in such a posh area. Sara felt very small and insignificant in the shadow of the estate. She approached the tall iron gate and grabbed one side. There was a small pebble path that led to a castle-looking structure. A tall and thick brick fence wrapped around the property and enclosed a small garden area. Sara gave the gate a push and was surprised it opened so easily. She half expected it to be locked. She closed the gate behind her, scurrying to the porch as quickly as she could, and feeling like a cockroach in the shadow of a giant.

She rang the doorbell and stepped back anxiously. Through the ornate glass she could see a figure approach the door. The man who answered was not John Hammond and for a second Sara panicked. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, not letting the man speak, “I was looking for John Hammond?” She questioned. _“Maybe I wrote the address down wrong? Oh great, I just traveled all this way and made a fool of myself.”_ She thought.

To her surprise, the man raised his eyebrows in shock, “and whom shall I say is calling?” He asked.

Sara felt her brain short circuit. The finely dressed man was not the owner of this house casually suiting up for a day in? He was a...butler? Sara blinked and blushed when she realized she hadn’t answered. “Oh! Uhm. Sara. Sara Webb. He called me.” She said quickly.

“Very well, Miss Webb.” He paused before asking, “would you care to come in?”

“Please.” Sara nodded, her nose was growing numb from the cold. He swung the door open wide for her to step in and closed it behind her. 

“Mr. Hammond is currently finishing up his morning shower,” the man said, “But I shall let him know you have arrived.” 

“Thank you.” Sara nodded her head politely. The man then walked up a set of stairs and disappeared. Sara turned in circles, not pulling her hands out of her pockets for fear of bumping into something. The interior was all marble tile and dark wood. There were fine portraits and suits of armor that Sara highly doubted were any more than decoration to John. There was an old fashioned wind up phone on the wall in the hallway ahead of her, and on either side of the foyer was a staircase that went up to the landing before turning 180 degrees and going up again. Sara paced in the foyer, letting her nicer pair of boots click on the floor. She curiously peeked upstairs, but heard no one. Just as she was about to climb up, she heard giggling from a room to her left and she crept over so as not to startle anyone.

Sara peeked into the room and her eyes lit up, “Lex? Tim?”

They turned in their seats, their breakfast forgotten.

“Sara!!” They screamed in unison. They both squeezed out of their chairs and Sara stepped into the room in time to catch both of them in her arms. She squeezed them tightly and they returned the gesture.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh!” Sara pulled back enough to smile at them. If Sara hadn’t been wearing wedge heels Lex would have been just as tall as her, and Tim had sprouted up, now reaching her shoulder. “Look at you two,” she held them both at arms length to get a good look at them. Lex’s hair had gotten lighter and longer, she now wore it down in loose waves, and she was no longer wearing the boy-ish clothes she’d known her to wear. Instead, she was wearing a knee length dress over fleece tights. Tim’s hair had been trimmed, and he too had grown out of his childish clothes, now wearing a button up shirt tucked into a pair of slacks. “Look at you,” Sara was overjoyed to see them, “you guys look fantastic.”

“You look amazing.” Lex smiled back.

“You look so grown up!” Tim exclaimed. 

Sara laughed at that, “thank you, oh my gosh,” she still couldn’t believe her luck, “how have you guys been?”

“We’ve been great.” Tim smiled at her.

“Things have been good.” Lex’s smile faltered for a second.

Sara immediately noticed, “good?” She repeated, “is everything okay?”

Lex and Tim shared a look, “no.” Lex finally admitted with a sigh.

“Grandpa might lose control of his company.” Tim blurted out.

A man cleared his throat behind her and Sara nearly jumped out of her skin. Both Lex and Tim grew quiet and looked away as she turned to see the older man from earlier. He smiled tensely at them, “Mr. Hammond is ready for you, Miss Webb.”

Sara tried to hide her frown, “Thank you.” She turned back towards the kids, “It was so good to see you both again.” She smiled. They all shared another hug, Sara treasured it, unsure when she’d see them again.

After Sara followed the man out of the dining room, he turned to her a quietly said, “Mr. Hammond has tried to keep the children out of business matters. He doesn’t want them to worry about him, their mother, or the house.” 

Sara blinked in shock, “Oh.” She said quietly, “I’m so sorry.” 

He shook his head and smiled sadly, “They’ve been through so much already. We try to make the most of the time we have.” And then, as if ending the conversation, he swept his hands up the stairs and motioned for her to go on ahead of him. “Mr. Hammond’s room is on the third floor.” Sara nodded her thanks once more and ascended the stairs.

She wasn’t sure what she was expecting when she turned the corner into John’s room. She expected some grand, almost kingly bed, all draped under a canopy, and a wide empty room with a fireplace. Instead, in the far right corner was a modest sized bed with several pieces of hospital equipment surrounding it. Sara couldn’t help the stutter in her heart when she saw the machines. She knew John was old, but he felt like one of those beings that lived for all eternity, something as simple as age couldn’t keep him down. John had his back to the door, hunched over several thick binders and occasionally looking at a map on his computer.

Sara swallowed the rock in her throat and lightly knocked on the open door. “John?”

“What? Who?” John turned around wildly, his eyes wide. His face broke into a wide smile when he saw her, “Miss Webb!” He struggled to his feet, Sara reached forward to steady him as he reached for his cane. “It’s so good to see you.” He wrapped her up in a hug. Sara blinked in surprise but hugged him back. He had that old person smell. John was dressed in striped pajamas and a thick dark robe. 

“It’s good to see you too, John.” Sara smiled tensely as she pulled away. “You wanted to tell me something about Dr. Harding?” She questioned cautiously.

The twinkle in John’s eye was snuffed out momentarily, but he nodded and sat back down, “Yes. I, sit down, sit down,” He offered her a chair on the other side of the desk. Sara sat down, smoothing out her coat as she crossed one leg over the other. “I was recently made aware of a terrible, but preventable tragedy.” Sara’s blood ran cold. She forced herself to keep breathing. “Jurassic Park, Isla Nublar,” John started explaining, “Was just a showroom, you know, something for the tourists. Isla Sorna,” he peered down at some paperwork while he spoke, thumbing over pages until he reached a specific one and handed it to her, “was the factory floor, Site B.” Sara took the paper and saw an island nearly three times the size as Isla Nublar. “We bred the animals there, nurtured them to maturity, and then transferred them to the park.” Sara looked up at John, unable to conceal the horror on her face. 

“You did what?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“After the accident in the park,” John continued, “The hurricane wiped out all facilities on Isla Sorna, and we had to evacuate of course. So the animals were released to mature on their own. For four years, I have been able to protect them from exploitation.”

“Wait,” Sara held up a hand to stop him, “Ellie said you guys bred them lysine deficient. How are they getting lysine?” She asked, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.

John finally looked up from his paperwork, “That is, uh, where Dr. Harding comes in. You see,” He sat back and clasped his hands together over his belly, “A few days ago, a British family on a yacht cruise stumbled upon the island,” he frowned, “And their wee girl was injured. She’s fine, she’s fine.” He reassured her quickly, “But, I fear the board will use this as the last straw to take control of Ingen from me.” 

_“The kids were right.”_ Sara thought as she leaned back. “So,” She drummed her fingers on the arms of the chair, “What does this have to do with Dr. Harding?”

John chewed on his bottom lip for a second, “Public opinion is the one thing I can use to keep the island secured and the animals safe. When I told Dr. Harding, she volunteered to go and document the animals.” Sara could hardly process what she was hearing. “So, I’ve been putting together a team to join her.”

“Team?” Sara repeated.

John continued, “I have a field equipment expert, a videographer, Dr. Harding requested you come along,” he tapped the folders on the desk as he spoke.

“John, John, John,” Sara whined as he spoke. She leaned forward once more, burying her head in her hands and running her fingers along her scalp. 

“They’re leaving in three days.” He interrupted her.

Sara’s head snapped up to look at him. “John, you cannot expect a team to be ready for this kind of thing in three—“

There was a cough at the door and they both turned to see the butler. “They’re here, sir.” He said solemnly. 

“Who’s here?” Sara asked.

“Miss Webb,” John looked at her. For a moment it looked like the twinkle had returned to his eyes, however, Sara realized the twinkle was actually tears. “Please. Help me protect the island.”

Sara steeled her gaze. John’s eyes had lost their sparkle, but they held no trace of doubt. She nodded solemnly, “Okay John.”


	3. The Warehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara meets Eddie and Nick before they have an abrupt itinerary change

The drive to the docks was long, and Sara fiddled with the strap on her weekend bag as the city passed by. They got close to the warehouse, and Sara thanked and paid the driver before turning to the busy and bustling building. She cautiously stepped over to the open roll-up door, peeking in to see about twenty or thirty people buzzing about like bees. Some were busy welding supports and frames to vehicles, some were constructing a cage, some were designing and looking over smaller projects that Sara could not even wrap her head around. People shouted at each other for assistance or to give instructions. 

This was not her element.

Her element was in the lab at the San Diego Zoo processing pictures and going over all of Sarah’s field reports from Africa, India, and the zoo. She belonged in a building with central heating and cooling, a computer, and her coffee mug. But this? There wasn’t a single woman in the warehouse from what Sara could see, half the men inside had kneecaps the size of her head, and from the looks of the garbage bin everyone had been working nonstop for at least a day or two. She took a breath as she took a step back, hoping to hide her appearance and departure. Unfortunately, her movement caught the eye of an average looking joe in a plaid shirt and jeans.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” He stomped over to the wide open door, “this is a private affair—” he spotted her camera bag, “Hey! No press allowed!!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Sara apologized, holding her hands up in defense. “John Hammond sent me here!” The man paused in mid-shout and his face softened ever so slightly, “I’m Sarah Harding’s assistant?” She tried, slowly lowering her hands.

“You’re Sara Webb?” He asked. She nodded and fidgeted uncomfortably as he eyed her over once, “you’re younger than I expected.” He finally said, “come on in.” He opened his arm to motion inside. Sara nodded her thanks and stepped into the warehouse. “Sorry about snapping at you, we’re trying to keep a low profile here. I’m Eddie Carr.” He introduced himself as he squeezed by and motioned for her to follow him. She did so, allowing him to lead her to an upper exposed story where several people were working on diagrams, charts, maps, and designs. “Hammond and Dr. Harding says you’re the best at what you do,” He went on, Sara smiled. “So what _do_ you do?” He asked when she said nothing.

“I’m just a lab assistant.” Sara explained. “Dr. Harding gave me a job after,” she trailed off, “I’m very grateful for her.” She said instead. She had no clue if Eddie recognized her from the six months of tabloids she had to endure after the Jurassic Park incident, but she didn’t want to play story time with a man she didn’t know and unleash all the shadows and demons she had tried so hard to suppress.

“Yeah, well, Sarah’s had a lot of great things to say about you, says you’ll be great for our research team.” Eddie kept talking.

Sara’s heart stuttered a beat as she tore her eyes away from the concept art of a trailer, “Speaking of. What do you know about this research team?” She asked.

Eddie grimaced, “not much. I haven’t read the field guide for everyone yet,” he attempted to joke. Sara didn’t find it funny. He sighed in defeat and nodded towards a desk in the corner, “all the info is in there. Why don’t you take a look at all her notes, tell us what improvements can be made, and we’ll get to work.” Eddie smiled, either oblivious or uncaring at how stressed Sara was.

She waited until he left before she dove onto the computer chair and spun towards the desk. Her camera bag and purse were discarded on the floor as she started flipping through the encyclopedia thick folders, each marked with a title page.

_Field Photographer:  
Nick Van Owen  
Field Equipment Expert:  
Eddie Carr  
Paleontologist:  
Dr. Sarah Harding  
Guide #1:  
Dr. Ian Malcolm_

And Sara felt a cold sweat drip down her back as her heart froze. 

_Guide #2:  
Sara Webb_

She shuddered as she scanned every folder. At the bottom was a signature, signed and approved by _John Hammond_. Inside was a photocopy of a polaroid picture of Sara and a young girl on the beach. Sarah had taken it last summer when they’d had a girls day out. Sara was circled in red marker on the photocopied version. 

The first paper inside was a long letter detailing Sara’s experience as a photographer, as a lab assistant to Sarah, and it horrifyingly included her experience at Jurassic Park. She skimmed over the fancy embellishments John had added, reading the last few paragraphs that basically summed up how John would be paying her nearly triple of what she was offered when she accepted his offer to photograph his park. And that was just what he was paying upfront. Sara nearly choked when she saw the zeroes following the job's completion. 

The second set of papers was a detailed account of an island. The bottom left corner had, _Isla Sorna ‘SITE B’,_ written on it. There were several maps of Isla Sorna, one like what John had shown her at his house, one showing topography, one showing man-made structures like buildings and fences, and one had several numbers on it corresponding to a key in the right upper corner. Sara tried to steady her breathing as she scanned the different dinosaurs on Site B. 

_Tyrannosaurus Rex  
Velociraptor  
Carnivore 1  
Pteranodon  
Brachiosaur  
Carnivore 2  
Parasaurolophus_

She couldn’t stomach looking at the map any longer and she flipped to the next set of papers. It was her resume with hand scribbled notes that Sara recognized as Sarah’s handwriting. Glowing reviews like: 

_Respects the animals and the environment_  
_Observes and documents without disrupting_  
_Organized_

If Sara’s stomach wasn’t in knots she would have been flattered. She got comfortable in the chair, occasionally changing positions to better suit her growing aches and pains. Sara knew she should stop to take one of her pills, but she didn’t want to lose focus on the information. The last page in each folder was a set of papers that had been stapled several times. The first few pages were an outline to a plan.

The research team would go by boat to the island and disembark up river. They’d keep their vehicles to the outer rim where the herbivores were (sure enough when Sara flipped back to the map, all the herbivore dots were towards the exterior of the island) and set up base camp by a cliff far from any of the animals territory. The point to the research team was to document the dinosaurs alive and answer the big question of _how they survived?_ They were also there to answer things like: _What are the behavioral patterns of breeding adults? Do dinosaurs nest together or become independent after hatching? What are the migration patterns of the dinosaurs?_ About a thousand other questions followed, and Sara absentmindedly chewed on some stranger’s pen as she flipped through the papers. Sarah had messaged Eddie about a dozen times with changes and refinements to the equipment, such as: _Hey, Eddie, change the fuel source to something more eco-friendly… The smell of gasoline will throw off the dinosaur's balance in their environment…. Eddie, don’t forget to pack plenty of plastic bags for food storage… Hey, Ed, just had a rough night, we should consider building a tall or suspended structure to hide in the trees…_

Sara hadn’t even realized she’d been sitting so long until a familiar voice caught her attention.

“Sara?” She turned and saw Ian Malcolm and his daughter, Kelly, standing behind her. Sara blinked wearily at them and took a deep breath realizing she’d been breathing slowly and deeply during her deep concentration.

“Ian, Kelly,” Sara instinctively opened her arms and hugged Kelly tightly as she ran to her, “what’s going on?” She asked. Kelly stepped away as Sara stood up, she wobbled and Kelly steadied her, “Did you know?” She demanded from Ian. 

Ian held up his hands in gentle defense, “Kelly, one—one moment, dear,” his daughter rolled her eyes at him but wandered off to look at some of the work the people were doing in the loft area. Ian waited until she was out of earshot and then stepped closer to Sara, “No.” he whispered harshly, “did you?”

“Of course not!” She hissed back at him. “I have spent,” hot, angry tears burned the corners of her eyes, “the past four years—!” A rock formed in her throat and her face burned, “trying to forget every horrible second of that place.”

“I know, kid, I know.” Ian laid his hands on her shoulders.

“Sarah?” She couldn’t form a coherent thought.

“I know.” Ian nodded. He sighed and dragged his hand down his face, “Listen, I gotta uhh, I gotta talk to Kelly.”

“She’s not going to like being left behind, Ian.” Sara warned him. Sara had gotten close to Kelly and Ian due to her work with Dr. Harding. Her first assumptions about Ian had been way off base, and she knew he was a good father at heart...but sometimes his actions seemed to point the other way. Kelly was headstrong and independent, but she grew to love having all the adults around her all the time. One of them was always home with her, helping with homework, taking her out to town, or just being a constant companion she could rely on. Having all three of them out of town at once? Sara couldn’t imagine the betrayal Kelly would feel.

“Well wh-what-what do you want me to do? Take her?” He asked incredulously, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

“No, but,” Sara winced, “I don’t know, Ian.” She frowned, “Just be gentle, and be honest.” 

Ian rolled his eyes, “Sure thing, mom.”

Sara deadpanned and pinched his upper arm, a sign of annoyance and affection the two had been doing the past few years. “Ian.” She warned. He only waved her off and called Kelly back over. Sara took this as her opportunity to go speak to Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie?” She called over the sound of a man sawing a tube of metal right beside them.

He turned, completely unphased by the sounds around them, “What’s up?” He asked

“There’s a couple of suggestions Dr. Harding had, I was wondering if there’s any way to implement them?” Sara knew this late in the planning phase, it might be hard or damn near impossible to change some things, but she was Sarah’s assistant first and a stranger’s sympathizer second. 

“Like what?” Eddie asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot and placing his hands on his hips.

“Changing the fuel source, packing lots of plastic bags, making an elevated place to hide?” She listed off some of the things in Sarah’s emails. _“She could email him back but not me?”_ Sara tried not to let that bother her, but it did.

“Well, come here,” He nodded and waved for her to follow him. They squeezed between a large camper and a wall and passed by a telephone as they did. He grabbed it and pressed a specific button combination, “Dr. Malcolm, downstairs, please.” He requested, his voice booming over the P.A. system.

“What adjustments have you already made?” Sara asked.

Eddie huffed at his time being taken up. “Well, we’ve definitely got enough plastic bags to keep Sarah satisfied, whatever she needs those for—,”

“ ‘scuse me,” A man in a loose sweater, brown pants, and a newsies cap squeezed by, “Eddie, when were ya gonna tell me you were hiding—,” Sara refused to step back and allow the man space. He rudely interrupted her and Eddie’s conversation, and was now swinging a huge gun in her face. When the man realized she hadn’t moved and that he’d nearly hit her with the gun he spun around, “Hey, would ya mind—,” the man was roughly her age, maybe a little older, his dark hair peaked out from under his cap, and despite his baby face his eyes were gaunt, like he had seen some wild shit in his life. He stopped when he realized he hadn’t cut off one of the workers and he eyed her over once, “Well, hello,” he dragged out the words, “Eddie, where have you been hiding this?” He asked.

Eddie rolled his eyes behind the man, “Nick Van Owen, this is the second guide, Sara Webb,” Nick’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, “Dr. Harding’s assistant—hey!” Eddie protested when Nick pushed the large gun into Eddie’s hands and released it with no warning.

“You’re Steven Webb’s daughter?” Nick asked, his face in a wide grin. Sara’s indifference turned to an uneasy quiver in her knees.

“Who?” Eddie asked, fumbling with the size of the gun.

“The director guy,” Nick explained, his eyes not leaving her’s. “Am I right? Ya look just like him, ya even got some early gray in ya hair—!”

“Yes!” Sara shouted, startling both men as well as some of the other men around them, “Yes. Steven Webb was my father. I was disowned. It’s a touchy subject,” she rattled off, unable to stop once she got started, “and I do not have early grays!” She poked Nick’s chest with every word before storming off. 

Sara furiously wiped away the tears that threatened to squeeze out the corners of her eyes. She thought she’d gotten over it all. Her father publicly disowning her as they put her broken arm in a cast, her mother standing by not saying anything as usual, the uncertainty of where to go and what to do next, she thought all those feelings were gone. She had a good life now. Not great or cushy like she once had, but a good one nonetheless. Memories and thoughts she had ignored for the past four years threatened to resurface, but Sara refused to let them get to her. She made her way outside the warehouse and plopped down on a neatly wrapped pallet of cinder blocks. She hunched over, propping her elbows on her knees, and pressing her knuckles to her eyes. Maybe if she forced her tears back in she could force her feelings back in too.

“Hey, kid,” Sara nearly jumped out of her skin when a large hand landed on her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat until she was able to focus on Ian standing in front of her.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Sara automatically forced herself to say. Ian nodded, she figured he suspected as much, but he stayed beside her anyways. 

After letting her brood in silence for a few minutes Ian spoke up, “We’re leaving in three hours, ya know.” Sara turned to look at him.

“That’s not enough time to prepare those guys.” She said as-a-matter-of-factly. She thought back to reading Eddie and Nick’s folders. Both knew what they were getting into but they didn’t _really **know**_ what they were getting into.

“Yeah well this isn’t exactly the laid back research expedition Hammond expected it to be.” Ian said, squinting in the sunlight as he looked back at the warehouse. “We’re going, getting Sarah, and coming home."

“You know she’s not going to want to leave the island, Ian.” Sara unwound her body and scooched to the edge of the pallet, “This is her life’s work, even before you or I came along.”

“Yeah, well I'm not giving her much of a choice.” Ian said as he stalked back to the warehouse.

Not the most conventional way of cheering someone up, but Sara knew Dr. Harding pretty well after nearly four years of working together, “Ian, Sarah’s work aside; we’ve got to get evidence of the dinosaurs alive and well in order to save them.”

“What—what?” Ian turned to look at her incredulously, “Save the dinosaurs? Hammond’s got you on his little soap box?”

“Hey, Ian, Eddie says we’re leaving, like, now?” Nick asked as he ran over to them, Sara ignored him for interrupting her once more and tugged at Ian’s arm when he turned to address Nick.

“Ian, a little girl was injured.” Sara addressed him quietly, “You know better than anyone how the press will gobble this up. Then it’s only a matter of time before another quick-cash-grabber like John Hammond comes along and uses the animals for profit.”

“Yeah we saw how well that went last time.” Ian grumbled.

“We have to save the island from being exploited. If not for Sarah’s science, then do it for all the innocent people who stumble upon the island. Do it for that little girl.” Sara reasoned.

Ian sighed, “Sara,” he looked like he was going to say _“no”_ , but a frustrated Eddie came over and started demanding Ian give him answers, which made Nick irritated because he had already been oh-so patient while listening to the two of them. Sara ducked away from the shouting. She had some shopping to do if they were leaving in three hours.


End file.
